


the curve of your neck and shoulder

by honeypressed



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Bleeding, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is a Sweetheart, Healthy Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pet Names, Recovery, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, abuse is not between minsung, blood mention, implied/referenced abusive household, nail peeling and biting, okay i think thats the heavy tags out of the way, self-harm through nail peeling and biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypressed/pseuds/honeypressed
Summary: Minho's nails are getting long. They haven't been this long since high school."Do you wanna keep them long?"Minho looks at his hands. They look - normal. Like hands that he can proud of.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 17
Kudos: 155





	the curve of your neck and shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i'm a little nervous about posting this fic bc it's quite personal, and also i just haven't posted a fic that deals with mental health issues for a while. please do read the tags properly! this is based entirely off personal experience and i just... self-projected hhh but as always, i do hope that you can enjoy this short fic!

_If you listen to this song_

_word by word, line by line_

_Can you sit by my side?_

_(can I protect you by your side?)_

* * *

His nails are getting a little longer now.

Minho doesn’t quite know what to think about this. He’s more used to his nails being short and a little rough from being bitten on or picked at. Now, when he writes, he can feel just the tiniest bit of nail digging into his palm. When he scratches his back, he has to be a bit more careful so that he won’t leave a scar on his skin.

It’s definitely better than when his nails were nub-short and bleeding because he had been peeling them out of nervousness. He’s still not used to this new feeling yet, and finds himself running a finger over his nails, looking at them.

“We could get nail polish for you,” Jisung says one afternoon when they’re lying down together on the sofa at home. Jisung’s got his hand in his own, and he’s kissing each of Minho’s knuckles. The touch is feather-light and a little tickly, but Minho doesn’t mind it.

“Why would I want nail polish?” Minho asks, playing a game on his phone with one hand and not doing very well at it. He would do better if he had both hands but he doesn’t want to let go of Jisung.

“You said before that you wanted to paint your nails if they ever got longer,” Jisung explains. He sits up a little and drops a kiss in the curve of Minho’s neck and shoulder, keeps the heat there in case Minho needs it.

“Oh yeah,” Minho murmurs, turning his phone off and shifting a bit to face his boyfriend. “I did.”

“Unless you don’t wanna keep your nails this long?”

“…I can?”

“Of course you can. You’re used to short nails, right? I can help you clip and file them down if you want.”

Minho hasn’t used a pair of nail clippers in a very long time. He hasn’t needed to, because he tends to pick and peel at his nails until the nail is gone; sometimes he goes too far and his fingers start bleeding. Perhaps what was worse than the realisation that he’s bleeding is the sinking feeling that he’s hurt himself again.

Now, he hasn’t peeled his nails for a week, maybe two.

“I wanna see if I can grow them a little longer,” Minho finally says, settles on his side and lets Jisung cup his face. “I haven’t had long nails… since high school?” He doesn’t add the _I want to see if I can actually keep my nails long_ , but then he becomes more concerned with how Jisung is smiling at him. It’s almost proud.

“Okay. Do you want me to help you?”

Minho looks at him, feels Jisung’s arm warm on his waist where just a sliver of his skin is exposed. He reaches up and brushes Jisung’s hair out of his eyes – it reminds him that Jisung hasn’t had a haircut in a while. It’s almost long enough to tie up.

“Yeah,” Minho says, quiet. “Please help me.”

* * *

For almost all his life, Minho’s been nagged at for peeling and biting his nails. It didn’t matter that his fingers would hurt, or that sometimes they would bleed. Or maybe that _was_ the point – that they bled and hurt and it was something that Minho alone could control.

As he grew up and met more people, he had become more and more nervous about his habit.

Other people didn’t have nails like his, blunt and jagged and edges stained red. As time passed, he had become too embarrassed to show his hands in pictures, worried to shake other people’s hands and always became defensive when his parents pointed out that his fingers were in a bad state.

He had tried to stop his habit in high school, chewing gum instead of chewing on his nails and fidgeting with a small plush-toy keyring instead of peeling at his nails. It wasn’t always a fool proof plan, of course, like when he was taking exams or doing interviews and he’d come out with nails peeled to the nub and dried blood in the corner.

The habit had come back into full swing after he graduated from university and started working. There were many new things that he needed to learn and get used to, and the stress of it along with the first time worries of paying rent and bills and being completely independent meant he had reverted back to peeling his nails again.

But now, a couple years into his job and having moved in with Jisung, he’s a lot more settled, a lot more calm. Back then, the small steps he struggled to take had seemed too insignificant to even make a dent in the shadowed path ahead, but now that he’s ahead and in a place that is a lot brighter, he can actually see how far he’s come.

There are still times that he falls back. Heavy footsteps, a door slamming, the jangling of house keys. Loud noises and pots dropping on the floor and suddenly his palms are sweaty and his heart is racing and his attention is torn away from whatever that he was previously doing. He hates those times the most. Things that he cannot control, things that are so normal for other people that he cannot witness or listen to without instantly associating them with danger.

Jisung didn’t do any of these things after Minho told him how bad they made him feel.

Socks around the house, a rubber band around the house keys; careful hands around the kitchen and door stoppers and always steady voices even when they’re having a disagreement.

 _These are things that are not difficult for anyone to do_ , Jisung had said half a year into them living together. _If people continue to do this even after you told them it makes you feel bad, then they’re assholes._

Now their house is – a home. A refuge for Minho.

He cannot remember how many times he had come home from a bad day at work, or back from his parents house after a visit, or just a bad day and even though Jisung might not be back yet, the house was warm and soft and there was tea in the pot and the curtains open and another sticky note on the fridge with Jisung’s writing on it.

And – even more things. Freshly-baked cookies. Dew-wet flowers. Pocket-warmed chocolate. Kisses on his knuckles and to his eyelids and on his shoulders and his hips and the back of his knees and in the curve of his shoulder and neck.

For someone that didn’t know how to breathe, Minho thinks he’s come a long way.

* * *

“Baby,” Jisung says when they’re preparing dinner together one Friday evening. “You’re picking at your nails, sweetheart.”

“Oh – thanks,” Minho says, a little distracted as he moves his hands apart. “Do you think we should have put in the last of that curry? I don’t know if it’s actually good, I didn’t smell it properly.”

“Eh, we have strong stomachs,” Jisung says, peering into the pot as well. “We’ll survive some questionable curry.” Then they descend into silence again, Jisung washing up and Minho taking care of the cooking curry. It’s a while before Jisung speaks up again, and it sounds like he’s been contemplating for a while.

“Baby,” Jisung calls.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been picking at your nails a lot lately, are you okay?”

“Oh! I’m alright – I guess I’m just not used to the feeling. It’s… a little uncomfortable when I’m doing things.” Minho pauses after he says that, looks down at his fingers. The nail definitely edges over the tips of his fingers now, makes his hands look longer. His hands look normal.

“Do you wanna keep your long nails?” Jisung comes over, wraps his arms around Minho’s waist and hooks his chin over Minho’s shoulder, kisses Minho’s jaw lightly.

Minho considers it. He’d been using the length of his nails as an indicator if he was doing well or not, but it had been a long time since he’d picked or bitten his nails – and they’re getting too long for his comfort. There’s that little, nagging worry in the back of his head that wonders if he sees his nails being short again will mean he starts reverting back to his old habits… but he’s been doing okay for a while now.

Even if he isn’t so well in the next months, the next week, or even tomorrow, he’ll be able to pick himself up again. He’s done it before. He can do it again, he knows of this, even if it is more difficult than before.

“No,” Minho says, turns his head a little to kiss Jisung’s forehead. “Can you help me cut them later? After dinner?”

“Anything for you,” Jisung says, smiles into the curve of Minho’s neck and shoulder, leaves more love there in case Minho needs any.

And that is that. They finish making dinner without a fuss, they eat it while some random video plays on Jisung’s phone, and they wash the plates while knocking into each other’s hips the whole time, giggling and getting soap on their clothes.

(“there we go!” jisung exclaims, putting the nail clipper away and taking minho’s hands into his own. “how does that look?”

minho looks at his fingers. the nail is clipper just to the tip of his finger, neat and filed. even when his nails were short last time, they were always uneven and jagged, torn down the sides and always reminded him that he had hurt himself.

this looks – neat. pretty. they look like hands that he is proud of.

“it looks great!”

jisung’s smile is bright, and minho falls into him all over again. jisung leaves more love for him in the curve of his neck and shoulder that night, but he leaves just as much back in the corner of jisung’s mouth where he can feel jisung smile.

there is pride when jisung whispers _i love you_ into his skin until minho is flushed with it, and he kisses jisung’s mouth with it, full of love.

 _thank you_ , minho tries to say, _for being there for me when i most needed it_.

after all, he is okay now. and even if he isn’t that okay tomorrow, or the day after, or in the coming weeks, there will be days that are white clouds and blue skies.)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you have enjoyed this fic, or gained a little comfort from this! 
> 
> this fic is quite personal because lately i've noticed i've been peeling my nails less and i've been doing better yet i feel sad or down for no reason sometimes and i needed to get this out of system, so i just wrote this short little piece. i've always associated high anxiety levels with my nails being very short and in very bad shape, and even having just a little bit of nail is a huge thing for me 
> 
> as this is based off personal experience i apologise if i depicted some aspects about anxiety in a strange way/different way. it is never my intention to romanticise mental health issues and even though i talk about jisung helping minho in this fic, do not expect your significant other to be the one that "heals" you. talk to a therapist for that. your s/o and family/friends should definitely be involved in your recovery process but they are not your therapist. 
> 
> the lyrics at the beginning are from junhui's "can i sit by your side"!. i will be returning with a lengthier fic, so i hope i will see everyone soon! i hope that everyone is doing okay, and staying healthy <3 here is my [Tumblr](https://yeongwonlino.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yeongwonlino/) :)


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